An Acquired Taste (The Valentine Society)

Epilogue

Six months later

I stand at the top of the staircase, looking down and listening to the conversation drifting out from the dining room just down the hall. My heart is beating so hard, I can hear it in my ears.

A cold hand gently grips my shoulder, and I turn to see Sebastian, dressed in a three-piece suit.

“You look stunning, my love,” he says, drinking in the sight of me in my new yellow dress. I smile, doing a little twirl to show off the long skirts. He lets his eyes linger on me for a long moment before shifting to meet my gaze. “Are you nervous?”

I bite my lip. “A little. But mostly excited.”

“As am I.”

Despite the anxious fluttering of my heart, another broad smile unfolds on my face. “Our first dinner party at the estate.”

“The first dinner party ever held under my ownership,” he adds, and gallantly offers me an arm. I take it and squeeze him reassuringly as we walk down the stairs to join everyone.

“It’s going to be spectacular,” I whisper to him, knowing he’s as nervous as I am, though he’d rather not admit it.

It’s much easier to walk into a room and face a crowd when it’s full of familiar faces. Our guest list is far from what one would see at a grand ball held by one of the courts—especially because the vast majority of attendees are human.

The entire estate staff is here, of course: Ellen, our dependable groundskeepers Trent and Tobias, polite driver Vincent, and Bridget from the kitchens. The latter is rather nervous about what the food is going to be like because she’s so used to cooking herself. But tonight they’re the guests rather than staff, all dressed in their Sunday best, because Sebastian and I want to spoil them.

My sister Maisy is also here; she’s seated next to Trent, and he keeps stealing sideways glances at her and blushing, which is adorable. There are only two vampires in attendance. The first is Benjamin. The last time I saw him, when Sebastian and I renewed our contract, was awkward. He apologized for lying to me about Alexander’s offer of patronage to protect me, and I’ve forgiven him, since I believe his intent was good. I’m glad to have him here tonight, with a sultry Lissa at his side.

The second vampire is Georgiana de Celeste, the only person from his court Sebastian wanted to invite when I asked him—and I was pleased to find out that she’s the patron of Farah, the museum-curating valentine who was so welcoming to me at the Celeste gala.

A dozen people in all, including me and Sebastian. Plus one very dapper dalmatian, wearing a collar with a bowtie on it.

It’s a good, manageable crowd for our first event, I think. I’m excited to have a chance to speak with each of them. And I can feel Sebastian relax at my side as he sees them all, like he was bracing himself for something terrible but has finally realized it might not be so bad.

We went all out tonight, hiring the human bartender and vampire pastry chef that work all of the big court events. I couldn’t help but notice that there was some glaring and muttering between the two when they arrived—I thought they were used to working together, but I guess I was wrong, because there’s clearly some resentment there. Despite that, the food and drinks both prove to be perfect as dinner goes on.

Everything goes fabulously.

It’s such a pleasure to see the staff enjoy themselves, and to talk to Maisy, and to have an opportunity to get to know Farah and her patron better. Barnabas spends dinner under the table, his tail thumping against Sebastian’s chair whenever someone sneaks him scraps of food.

We couldn’t have picked a better bunch of people. But nothing warms my heart as much as hearing Sebastian’s laugh ring out not once but twice from the other end of the table during dinner. The second time, I look over and grin at him, and he catches my eye and lifts his blood-infused wine in a silent toast; a moment of connection despite the table and the guests between us.

As midnight comes and goes and the early hours of the morning approach, we bid our guests goodbye. Everyone thanks us for a lovely night; Ellen even sheds a couple tears as she squeezes my hand and tells me what a pleasure it was.

The estate is very quiet once they’re gone, but it’s a comfortable quiet. A quiet I’ve grown accustomed to. Sebastian and I let the silence linger as we make our way to our bedroom. I take a warm bath while Sebastian spends time in the library to decompress. Then we slip into bed, and he reads a book beside me while I type on my blog.

I rarely write about my own experiences anymore, and when I do, it’s always with Sebastian’s approval. Mostly, these days, I prefer to use my platform to share other peoples’ stories and give them advice about their own situations. The outpouring of attention from being a viral sensation faded away when people realized I was never going to reveal my identity or share any juicy gossip. But readership is still steady, and plenty of people take the opportunity to write in anonymously.

There are so many valentines out there who think they’re alone in their experiences. It brings me joy to offer even the briefest moment of connection online. I want the community to know that my hand is always extended to offer a lift up if they need it.

The confessions in my inbox range from devastatingly sad to so raunchy, they make me blush even when I’m reading them alone. But a message I receive tonight really makes me do a double take.

“Oh my God, Sebastian, listen to this,” I say. “Dear Anonymous Valentine,” I begin. “I have a confession to make. My patron is an artist who views me as his new muse, but I want to be seen as more…”